


Descend to Hell (And Have a Cup of Tea)

by farfetched



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Afterlife, Aftermath, Alternate Universe - Afterlife, Car Accidents, Demons, Hell, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-08-24 07:01:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8362174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/farfetched/pseuds/farfetched
Summary: When Derek finds himself in Hell, he's not exactly impressed. But maybe he'll have to turn over everything he ever thought about Hell, including demons, especially the grumpy receptionist that calls itself Dex. This might even change his life. Death. Afterlife. Whatever. 
For Day 5 of the 13 Days of Halloween: Welcome to Gay Hockey - wow the “hell” part is way more literal than I thought it was.





	1. Olympic-Grade Avoider of Emotions, Derek Nurse

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously this deals with a character dying, but from that character's point of view.

“Welcome to Hell. Name?” 

Derek blinked, still adjusting. It was one thing having a hospital emergency room fade out on him, shouting and screaming getting fainter and thinking he’d just wake up later, hopefully with less pain. It was quite another being casually told he wasn’t even good enough for heaven. He didn’t even really believe in the concept, but it stung nonetheless. 

“Uh…” He started, trying to reconcile his thoughts and feelings and everything around him spinning into chaos, and as usual, he failed. As usual, he put a blank face on it, and turned towards the… human-looking thing that was asking. 

Said human-looking creature looked surprisingly normal. Fairly tall – about the same height as Derek himself, he noted – and well built. At least, he thought so; they were wearing pretty baggy clothes as far as he could tell – about as unfitted as they could get without actually not being smart. His pale complexion stood out from the gloom of the area (Derek wouldn’t quite call it a room), his vibrant ginger hair the most colourful thing there, aside from perhaps his eyes. They seemed to shine in the dim light, a steady tangerine orange glow. Derek wasn’t sure if it comforted him or made him feel annoyed. It made him feel something, but he ignored it, suppressed it as usual. 

“I need your name to get you to the right place.” The creature explained politely, if tiredly. 

Derek brightened at the prospect.  
“So that means I’m not supposed to be in Hell, right? That’s pretty chill. That obvious?” 

The stare he got from the creature was stunningly deadpan. If he hadn’t already suspected he was dead, he felt like he might have dropped again. 

“No, it means I need to get you to the correct place in Hell.”  
“But why am I in Hell? I didn’t do anything wrong.” Derek pointed out, puzzled. 

The creature sighed. 

“You didn’t,” they conceded, “But you humans have very weird ideas about Hell, so. Lucifer knows where you get them from. He might, actually.” 

“So if I didn’t do anything wrong, why am I in Hell?” It was, after all, never portrayed as a good place. The creature looked like they were close to putting their head in their hands. Or screaming. It wasn’t an unusual reaction to Derek, so he wasn’t precisely deterred, not when he needed answers. 

“Hell is a district of the afterlife. It’s not good or bad, it just _is_.” 

“Oh.” Derek said, not really comprehending it. It looked too nice to be hell, in any case, aside from the gloom. The only traceable light was being given off from four torches, two besides each door, large and somewhat imposing, but the rest of the room was a simple tiled floor, white and clear of any blood of other suspicious substances, the walls were white as was the ceiling, making it difficult to tell how high the room was. The creature sat behind a desk that wouldn’t have looked out of place at the human world he’d apparently left behind. “Well, a demon would tell me that.” He said, playing for time. 

“I am a demon. Well observed. I live here, in case you hadn’t worked it out. Come on, name, then I can get rid of you.” 

Derek stopped, frowning. He took a step back. 

“No.” This earned him an unamused look. “No, I’m not going so you can ‘get rid of me’. I need to go back. I’m not dead.”  
“You are, actually. Definitely dead. We don’t make mistakes like that. You only come here once there is no hope for you.” 

_No hope_ , Derek thought, the words spearing through him as he started to process just what it meant. He’d left everyone behind. Granted, he hadn’t exactly enjoyed his time on earth that much, but it didn’t matter. He was so young! He’d wasted it! Maybe if he’d studied harder, his mums would have been a bit more caring towards him, maybe if he’d been a bit more chill, he would have had more friends, maybe if he hadn’t been so picky, he’d still have a boyfriend… 

“And now you’re regretting, aren’t you. Stop. I need your name.” The creature said, and Derek did as he always did, pushed the emotions away to the best of his ability. 

“No. What happened to me?” 

“I need your name to know that.” The creature said, but their eyes flickered downwards, betraying the fact that they must know. 

“No you don’t.” Derek complained, and the creature rolled their eyes. 

“Fine. Traffic accident. A truck rammed into your car sidewards. An attempt at resuscitation was made in the hospital, but as you may be able to tell, it failed.” They recited, no inflection of pity or sympathy in their voice. Somehow, that small fact gave Derek enough strength to not just give in to their demands. 

“I’m not going.” He announced. The creature stared at him, glowing eyes unblinking. “This is Hell, and Hell is bad. You’ll take me away and torture me, so I won’t go. I’m not in the right place.” 

“I told you, Hell is a district. You won’t even be here that long-”  
“What, because you lot will kill me?” He interjected.  
“Because then you’ll be allocated a new life, and your memories wiped. We have people who are better at talking than me back there.” They explained, waving towards what could have both, or either of the doors. “Go speak to them.” 

Derek seriously considered going. He wanted to close his eyes and sleep and pretend this was not happening. He wanted to talk to someone who might give a damn about him. He wanted to go home. 

But home was a place that didn’t exist anymore, not for him. Everything he’d ever known had been swept out from under him unexpectedly, and he was very sceptical about this creature’s assertions that everything would be fine if he just moved on. 

“No.” He said. The creature looked up, and his resolve wavered for a moment, but then solidified. He needed answers first. He was not going there alone. “I’m staying here until you explain everything or send me to the right place. I don’t believe you. I will follow you until you take me back.” He said, sounding plenty more confident than he felt. 

To his surprise, the creature laughed. 

“I knew you were going to be an annoying little shit, didn’t I? You walk in here, and I knew you were going to be one of the annoying ones. Wait until you get so bored you fall asleep, and I’ll move you.” They said. 

“I’m not telling you my name. I’m not going anywhere unless you come with me.” Derek said stubbornly, crossing his arms and tilting his head up, just for the full effect. A flash of irritation zipped across the creature’s face, and it did occur to Derek for a full second that it might be a bad idea. 

“You know what? Fine. Fine! I don’t care what you do. Sit there and cry for all I care. Just get out of the way so I can deal with the less annoying bastards who come through here today.” They scowled deeply at him, but Derek took them at their word, waltzing around the desk to find somewhere to sit. 

There was nowhere. 

“Make me a chair.” He demanded. The creature rolled its eyes hard enough that he considered whether they might not return to the oddly pleasant orange, but they did. 

“I’m a demon, not a miracle worker. I don’t make chairs. Not without need. Sit on the floor.” They demanded, turning away to type on something that vaguely resembled a computer, except the keys were in a script he did not recognise, and looked as though they were gently smouldering coals. Something about the heat haze rising off them told him not to touch them. 

“I don’t want to. How do I know you won’t leave, anyway, if I do fall asleep? I’ll stay awake until you let me see someone more informative.” 

“Then you will be waiting for a very long time.” The creature murmured ominously. Derek decided to sit on the floor, and do his best to remain conscious, hoping that at some point, the creature would break.

* * *

More people than not seemed to get the memo that maybe Hell wasn’t so bad. There were a few who argued a bit, although ultimately everyone but him went through the doors without much fanfare, their eyes tired and lonely and sad. The creature didn’t actually seem too bad at vague comfort, or transferring them onwards; they seemed to be fluent in innumerable languages, switching from English to Italian to Sanscrit to Urdu and others Derek only dreamed of recognising. He was quietly impressed, but he wasn’t going to say anything. He couldn’t let them think he thought anything good of them. They were probably tricking him. 

As they passed through, Derek tried to get a peek beyond the doors, but he could only see hazy grey fog. The action earned him a smirk from the creature. 

Whom he realised, probably had a name of his own. And may well not be genderless. 

“What’s _your_ name? And your preferred pronouns?” Derek questioned, in between people passing through the room. The fact that most people weren’t fighting their placement made him doubt his convictions, but he decided he’d stick with it. It had only been a few hours. The creature would have to have a break at some point and Derek would follow him. He could be called many things, and stubborn was definitely one of them. 

The creature turned to look at him incredulously.  
“My name? And what do you mean, my pronouns?” 

“Yeah, the thing everyone calls you? That thing? The moniker attached to the resemblance you take, that people associate with you?”  
If looks could kill. Thankfully, he was already dead and did not need to worry about this anymore, or wondering about whether here, looks could literally kill. He supposed it might be possible to die twice. 

“Dex.” They murmured after a few seconds’ hesitation. 

“Thank you. And I’m not a dick, bro. I don’t want to refer to you wrong, or anything.” Derek continued, glad that he had unsettled the demon. 

“Pronouns. Uh, like, he, she, you?” They asked.  
“Yeah. Also they, zie, sie, etc. There are loads. Which do you prefer?” 

The demon looked away for a minute, and when they did reply, they still weren’t looking at Derek. He wondered whether he’d unknowingly hit a sore point. 

“Demons are genderless, technically, but I… I suppose you can refer to me as male. So he?” Their- _his_ voice was surprisingly quiet. 

Derek grinned, pleased that he’d gotten somewhere with the demon. 

“Thank you, Dex. Now, can I talk to someone else about this?” 

Dex groaned loudly, and Derek wondered if he was really staying here to speak to someone more trustworthy and hopefully get sent to the right place, or because it was fun watching Dex at work, so many languages sliding over him and soothing him, so he didn’t even have to think about what he’d left behind.

* * *

He woke up with a start, cursing himself for falling asleep in the first place. Why did he even have to sleep anymore? He was dead. That should come with all the perks of not being alive as he’d always assumed them, including not needing to sleep or drink or whatever. 

He expected to come to in a different room, but it wasn’t. Dex was still there, typing away, and there was a cup of water near to Derek that he engulfed readily, and finally noticed a blanket on top of him. 

“Did, uh, someone else come by?” He questioned hesitantly. Dex didn’t even look back, his fingers flying across the coal keyboard. Coalboard? 

“No. Of course not. It’s only been a few hours.” He said, distractedly. Derek felt his lips pull up into a smile. 

“Awww, so you do care! Tell me, do all argumentative souls get this treatment, or am I just a special case?” he teased. 

Dex turned around in his chair, glaring at Derek, his eyes burning more brightly. It might have been anger. 

“If you died again in here, it’d be my fault. Don’t mistake this for kindness. You are the most annoying soul I’ve ever met.” He nearly growled. “I wish you’d just leave. You’re getting on my nerves.” 

Of course, Derek couldn’t just leave it.  
“Do demons even have nerves? I mean, you look human-esque, but there is a big difference. What’s the difference?” 

“The difference is that I can burn to you a coal if I wanted to, so I suggest you shut up.” Dex said sardonically, turning back in his seat. 

“So you don’t want to, then? So maybe you don’t want me to leave?” He tried again. 

Dex ignored him, which Derek found highly suspicious, and slightly incriminating that he might have picked up on a mistake of the demons.

* * *

Several hours later, he found himself shaken awake, realising belatedly that he’d nodded off again. Even though his injures seemed to have healed – he’d subtly checked, and he had various scars where he recalled the most pain being – he felt extremely tired. He must have been, to fall asleep twice in less than a day. 

It irritated him, and was on the tide of thoughts about dying and leaving and family and such that he was doing his best to avoid. Thankfullly, the shock of seeing Dex so close, frowning at him, his eyes glowing with the intensity of smouldering coals, swept everything aside for the moment. 

“Come _on_ , annoying sod. I’m doing as you asked. I’m taking you to the boss. He’ll answer everything you need and more.” Dex explained, standing up and shoving his hands in his pockets. He gave off an air of weariness, something Derek must have contributed to, but right now, he was more bothered about the contents of his speech. 

“You’re being helpful.” He commented, stunned. Dex snorted. 

“No, I’m doing my job. My job is to get souls to the right place so they can be processed for dispatch, and enjoy their afterlife. You are being annoying, so I’m referring you on.” 

“Great!” Derek exclaimed, standing up swiftly, and getting a head rush, nearly falling again, his vision blanking out in the static fuzz of blood trying to be places it was needed and wasn’t yet. When it all settled, he realised he’d only not fallen because he’d been caught. Dex looked strangely like he was trying to look disaffected, and failing miserably. 

Derek took pity on him, mostly due to the promise of taking him to see someone else, and stepped back, murmuring a thanks. Dex coughed, and swivelled on his heel, approaching the gap between the doors, which Derek thought must be a mistake. But he stopped just in front of the wall, and shifted his weight onto one foot. 

“Dex and company to see Lucifer, if I may.” He announced at the corner, and waited. Derek was about to point out the apparent idiocy of his actions when a door appeared from nowhere, black as anything. Somehow, he could tell it was ornately patterned, even though it seemed to eke light out of the room; Dex pushed it open, and peered over his shoulder curiously. “You wanted to see the higher ups. Well, you don’t get any higher up in Hell.” 

Derek hesitated, then saw the bemused smirk in Dex’s face. Like hell – ha – he was going to bail on this now and act like a good soul. He wanted answers, and he didn’t want them from Dex. 

A very small part of him hissed that he just wanted to spend more time with Dex. He shut it up, and swallowed his fear, striding after the demon with intent. 

Even not really subscribing to the usual beliefs about Heaven and Hell – heaven sounded a bit boring, to be honest, although Hell didn’t sound like much of an alternative – he was nervous to meet Lucifer. If he was even who Derek thought he might be, fallen archangel: everything so far was telling him not to expect anything that might be considered usual.


	2. Nurse meets an archangel, and sees a nurse along the way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek gets to have an unsettling visit with Lucifer, and Dex has emotions other than grumpiness?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is some talk of blood, and again, death. I wouldn't call it graphic personally.

The first thing that struck him, beyond the door, was a blond person. In the pitch black, they stood out remarkably well; and they were dressed much more presentable than Dex had been, Derek could tell, even from behind. 

Dex leant over, murmuring 'male, before you ask' into his ear. Then they turned around. 

Derek shrieked. 

His _eyes_. If Dex's were somewhere between comforting and disquieting, this man's was downright _creepy_. Cavernous brown pits was a more accurate moniker. 

The man, to his surprise, smiled, whilst Dex stifled laughter. Derek felt his skin go hot. 

"Oh honey, demon eyes take some getting used to. Unfortunate side effect, but there you go. What's your name?" Derek opened his mouth, but the blond man interrupted himself. "Oh, dearie me! I haven't introduced myself. I'm Bitty, pleased to meet'cha!" He stuck his hand out and, somewhat stunned, Derek shook it. Bitty waited expectantly. 

"Bitty, you need to man the desk. Three waiting, two Polish and a Sami." Dex said, a hint of impatience in his voice. Bitty jolted out of Derek's grip, and grinned apologetically. 

"Sorry! I'll see y'all later at the rink, right? Okay, going!" Bitty responded, hastened by Dex's glare. Derek blinked after him, the small window of light from the door disappearing, leaving him with the odd feeling of being able to see most of Dex, but not knowing where his feet were landing, or what on. He could have been walking on skeletons for all he knew. 

"He's, uh..." Derek started, unsure why he'd even spoken. He just couldn't stand the silence, his thoughts sliding endlessly towards everything he really didn't want to focus on. 

"A bit overwhelming? He'll get better. He's nice, he was-" Dex glanced his way. "He'll probably make you a pie later."   
"A pie?" Derek echoed, catching the slip but not really thinking much of it. The demon nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets. 

"He likes to welcome people, when he can. So. Hope death solved any weird eating issues you might have had." 

"Say what? Rewind, hold the phone. _You hope death solved any-_ Death doesn't solve anything! I still have scars!" He flapped his hands to show his point. Dex looked the other way, and Derek seriously suspected he was laughing at him. 

"Think of it like a soft reset. It puts you to a certain point, but it's not a complete miracle worker. I mean, your scars were a piece-" He stopped himself, and then in an oddly flat voice; "Oh, it's Cerberus." 

Derek was about to demand a straight answer, when a growling met his ears. He desperately tried to find the source of it in the darkness, and was having no luck at all; he just couldn't see anything past Dex, still looking away from him. 

Then, two feet away from him, yellowing teeth became visible, a giant set of them, then another, and another. Three pairs of gleaming eyes focused in on him, and Derek felt himself curl in on himself, a tremor starting to shake his body. He'd never liked dogs much, not when he was still alive, and death had not changed anything about that. 

Dex huffed to his side. It irritated him, that he could be a source of amusement to this asshole, who while taking him to see someone who could explain, had not really tried to explain anything at all. He felt a flair of anger spear through him, hot and ashamed, and he could see one of Cerberus' giant noses and sharp teeth and awful breath getting closer. 

He flailed, thrusting his hands out in front of him, connecting with something squashy and damp, followed by a tiny whine that sounded like it had come from a dog a hundred times smaller. 

Cerberus jumped back a few metres, and one third of it barked at him, the other two eyeing him with suspicion. 

"You're the first person I've seen punching Cerberus." Dex commented, his tone considered and unreadable. He walked forward a few steps. "Probably a good thing. Bloody hellbeast." He murmured, and Derek was totally unsure whether he was supposed to hear or not. Regardless, Dex addressed the dog. "We're not a threat, let us through. He's here with me, however reluctant I am about it." He intoned. 

Cerberus stared at him for a long moment, but Dex did not quail as Derek might have done in the same situation. He couldn't see his face, but he was imagining a very unimpressed raised eyebrow. 

"I will play with you later." Dex added, which seemed to deal the deal. Cerberus yipped merrily, dashed forward in what Derek assumed was an attack until Dex came away unscathed aside from being drenched in dog saliva, and bounded off into the darkness, his footsteps fading out sometime later. 

Dex looked faintly disgusted when he turned around.   
"Stupid dog. I never see him drinking, how does he get so slobbery?" 

"How did you just walk through a previously invisible door?" Derek remarked, unsettled from the encounter, and not quite believing Cerberus was fully gone, or even the only hell hound. 

" _I_ could see it. Lucifer deemed that you could enter, so you saw it. End of." Dex said, striding forwards without hesitation. Derek stepped more carefully, not wanting to fall behind, yet unnerved from not knowing where his feet fell. He couldn't even really see himself at all, only the top half of Dex, sauntering easily through the dark... 

It had to be a dream. It had to be. He couldn't let himself believe otherwise, otherwise that was giving up, wasn't it? Any minute, he'd wake up in hospital, high on pain medication, and tell... 

Tell who exactly? Who would listen? His 'friends' wouldn't. His mothers might take a certain amount of time to listen, but he couldn't really think of anyone who knew the real him and stayed with him. Nobody would really care that much. 

Was it really any worse to be dead? It felt a lot like being alive, after all. He apparently still needed to eat and sleep, and Dex had said he could die - although thinking about it, that might have been to cover up that he'd done something nice. 

Which was odd in and of itself. Why would Dex do anything nice for him? He'd done nothing but piss him off, asking questions and refusing to just be a good soul... 

He could still be a good soul. Tell Dex he'd changed his mind, tell him his name, let himself be taken wherever he was going without fighting. Without bothering at all. 

He stopped walking, the thoughts weighing him down. Did he really have the effort to fight this? Maybe he was in the wrong place, but nobody would lift a finger for Derek Nurse. Not willingly. He had to fight tooth and nail for anything he really wanted, hence he'd cultivated an attitude that he didn't want for anything. Or, more correctly, he didn't outwardly want for anything. Because the things he wanted just never came to him. 

"You got cold feet?" Dex called, having noticed him stop. Derek glanced up, wondering just why he was even trying to fight. "It's okay. Not everyone can hack meeting the boss. Most everyone wimps out. Pussies." He remarked idly, and Derek felt an anger light. 

"You shouldn't use that. It's offensive."   
Dex raised an eyebrow. 

"Oh? To who?"   
"To whom, and anyone identifying as female. It implies women are weak." Derek said, frowning. It was such an odd insult to use. 

"Like we don't call all assholes dicks. Is that saying dicks are bad?" Dex returned, folding his arms in front of his chest. 

Derek took a step forwards.   
"No. Yes. That's off topic! Women find it offensive." He stated forcefully. "I find it offensive on their behalf." 

"None of them are present. None of them are ever going to know. What's the point in arguing for it?" Dex asked offhandedly. 

"So I can make a difference! However small. Drops of water build up into an ocean, it just takes some time." He said proudly, taking another step forwards. "Actually it's best to attack prejudice in these kinds of situations because it's where it all comes out. Women pointing it out only censures it around women. Men pointing it out changes the behaviour." 

"And isn't that ironic?" Dex murmured. Derek frowned.   
"That's not really-"   
"It's ironic how men are required to change behaviours against women. Doesn't it show how deep it goes?" Dex interrupted, shutting him up. "Anyway, you coming or not? Still a good soul home with your name on it." He offered, shrugging bodily, his arms thrown out wide. "Yours for the taking. The quicker you take it, the quicker you get peace." 

Derek narrowed his eyes. This was all a ploy. All a ploy to make him lose his nerve and just go! Cerberus, the darkness, this place, Dex, all designed specifically to tear down his defences. 

He couldn't believe he hadn't realised. Thinking of letting Dex win ignited a desire to beat him, to see Lucifer and check it wasn't a mistake. He shoved his insecurities down; he could deal with them later. 

"Take me to Lucifer, Dex. I need to see him." 

"Well, you certainly have come to the right place, then." A quiet, yet authoritative voice rang out across the distance between them. It was the kind of voice possessed by the most respected teachers; kind, but on a knife edge. One wrong move, and it could cut you deep. 

Dex's demeanour changed immediately. He bowed deeply, and so Derek copied him, a bit nervously. 

"Archangel Lucifer. I present you with..." He trailed off, but didn't meet Derek's eye. "Someone who thinks hell is bad still. He refuses to listen to me." 

Lucifer finally came into view. 

Derek wasn't quite sure if it was intentional or not, but it was genuinely impossible to tell Lucifer's gender. He settled on 'they'; they had gradiated shoulder length hair, transforming from black at the roots to a vivid blood red at the ends. They had a tightly fitted jet black suit on, barely standing out from their surroundings, and Derek quietly noted how the TV shows depicting Lucifer as well dressed certainly had that much right. 

They smiled, something that felt more threatening than it did comforting. Derek noticed how their eyes were not like Dex's; they were normal, as in to say, somewhat human. He couldn't tell the colour in the gloom, but he could actually see the whites of their eyes. 

"Mr Nurse, you requested to see me?" Lucifer asked. His mouth suddenly felt dry, all the complaints he'd had forgotten. He could barely think. 

"I shouldn't be in Hell." He croaked eventually, more to break the silence than anything else. Lucifer raised one perfect eyebrow. 

"And why would that be, Mr Nurse?" They questioned, a hint of danger in their tone. 

"Dex said it wasn't bad, but then he's a demon! He would say that. I wanted some confirmation..." He trailed off, seeing the amusement in Lucifer's eyes. 

"So you wouldn't trust a demon, but you'd trust the ruler of Hell?" Lucifer commented. 

Derek stopped, and realised that yes, he was relying on what was arguably the worst – or best, depending on the viewpoint – demon in the whole system. 

“Yes?” He squeaked hesitantly, and heard Dex snort to one side. He cleared his throat. “Show me it’s not all a farce, a trick! Show me some proof I’m even dead for a start. Show me this isn’t all a dream. Then- Then I’ll go quietly.” 

Lucifer considered it for a long moment. 

“How exactly?” They asked. “I suppose I could show you your body, or your funeral, but you dead souls do get rather attached to your previous lives. I prefer to let all the other demons deal with that. I’m not very good at the sympathy thing, you see.” Lucifer intoned, droll. “Besides, you wouldn’t think I was telling the truth. Although going quietly sounds like such a bore, doesn’t it? I could do with some excitement. Dex, join us. You know how hopeless I am at sympathy.” 

Dex muttered something that sounded sorely close to that he wasn’t any better, but stepped closer reluctantly despite the complaint. Lucifer slapped their hands in front of them, and a symbol appeared on the floor in the gloom, before everything disappeared. Derek suddenly got the sensation of falling without moving an inch, terror seizing his throat and had it gone on for a second later, he would have clung onto Dex, or, worse, Lucifer. 

Thankfully, it stopped rapidly, and he shuttered his eyes against sheer blinding light, painful after the overwhelming darkness. It took a long while for his eyes to adjust, and when he did, he had to admit he was a bit disappointed. They were outside a hospital, but he didn’t recognise it. Ambulances were pulling up, off loading, staff running around in the calm veil over chaos. 

Lucifer chuckled.   
“It’s so much fun to see the utter confusion in your eyes. Isn’t it, Dex? Just wonderful.” They mused, and Derek set his face into a disaffected expression with the ease of years of practice, and leant his weight onto one foot, pretending he didn’t care much. 

“Archangel Lucifer, if we could speed things up. I have things to do in Hell.” Dex commented snidely, and Derek wasn’t sure whether the archangel was going to snap at him or not. 

“Ah, all those souls to torture! Takes such a long time, you see. I heard he carved someone’s brain out with an ice skate once.” Lucifer leaned in to whisper the last bit conspiratorially to Derek, but there was a hint of a smirk on their lips. Derek wasn’t sure whether to laugh or be terrified, and settled on not responding at all. Dex harrumphed. 

“Yes, hundreds. I do just love torturing my-” He paused, eyes sliding over to Derek and then past him, as though he’d not meant to do it at all. “My fellow residents. Their screams are particularly welcoming at night. I suspect my room might need a new coat of blood…” Dex played along, getting over where he’d tripped. Derek scowled at him. 

“Well, I certainly won’t keep you. I might change my quarters to white, what do you think?” Lucifer commented idly, as they tapped their foot on the ground; as it turned out, this was the only warning Derek was getting as they shifted through the walls, into the waiting room, and across into the emergency room. 

Derek was beginning to see how this was going to go, and maybe regretting his decision, but he was as stubborn as he was chill. He was not about to back down now. 

They weren’t walking. It felt more like the scenery around them was shifting rather than they themselves were moving. He congratulated himself on not flinching as they slid through a paper curtain, and then all thoughts banished themselves from his mind. 

There was seeing bodies in dramas, knowing they weren’t really dead. There was seeing people in hospitals. There was seeing blood, and seeing death, and seeing things he never knew he didn’t want to see. 

And then there was seeing _his own dead body_. 

Derek stared. He couldn’t not, the sounds of the emergency department fading away from him as he stared at himself, except vacant of life. 

It reminded him of those days he’d wake up and feel so bland inside. But worse. He was actually dead. No way back, not now. 

There wasn’t a huge amount of blood strewn around the sheets, but there was enough. It was just so disorientating seeing himself so still, almost at sleep – and yet. his hair was matted with blood and shards of glass, sparkling in mockery. His skin colour was more pallid than usual, nearing a grey tone. His eyes were open, staring glassily up, and there were lacerations on his arms and chest, and imprints where they’d tried to- 

And no one was there. 

How long had passed since the accident? How long since he’d been dead? 

While he was staring numbly at himself, but dead, a nurse strolled in, clipboard in hand, and noted some details. Lucifer went to peer over her shoulder.   
“Organ donor. Very good, Mr Nurse. Save all those other little humans in their lives.” They said ‘humans’ akin to the way someone would about ants; not disrespecting exactly, but disregarding. Without much care. “Well. Are you done?” They questioned. Derek blinked, not ready to leave the human world behind just yet, even with the disquieting sight in front of him. 

“No, I have- I have so many questions…” He murmured, trying to recall what they all were. Dex huffed. 

“Oh man, another Tango. Just what we need.” He muttered, although the tone of his voice was distinctly off. Lucifer interrupted before he could decipher it further. 

“If you were curious about the timing, allow me to explain! It’s a little fluid between the two worlds. Very handy I can man a boat then. Or perhaps, archangel a boat…?” They mused to themselves. “Nonetheless, multiple events are happening right now, if you cared to view them. I could show you your accident, if you’d like, or perhaps your funeral? They always insist on that one, don’t they Dex, and then they just start crying…” Lucifer said. 

“Derek, just say you want to go. He’ll show you the inside of your coffin if you ask him to.” Dex muttered, and Derek turned around, finding the demon staring at the floor, arms crossed, frown on his face. 

He realised that this place was getting to Dex. Why, he didn’t know. But it put Derek in a place of more power; he wasn’t nearly so affected as Dex looked, seeming almost vulnerable. A part of him wanted to push him, wanted to see him break, wanted to find out more. A part of him wanted to see the accident that killed him, wanted to know who turned up to his funeral, who cried. Who even cared, what they did with all his stuff. How life changed, or didn’t, without him there. 

And another part didn’t. Another part wanted to get as far away from this as possible, reminded him that Dex had been nice enough in a round-about way to not force him through the doors, had taken him to see Lucifer, and while he’d been grumpy and goading about it, he looked genuinely upset now. Another part knew that seeing the aftermath of his death would only upset him, and he didn’t want to know. Wondering about it was probably better than knowing, and if Lucifer could tow the line between the worlds and the time in each, surely it wasn’t impossible to return if he changed his mind? 

He took a final look at Dex, unnaturally white even considering his skin colour, and a final glance towards his still body, and made his decision. 

“No, it's fine. I’ll go to Hell. Just promise me there isn’t any torture. Dunno why I’m even trusting you, but I am.” 

Lucifer didn’t seem like the kind of person to lie to him. They smiled wryly at him.   
“I sincerely promise you there is no ritual torture. Perhaps a speck of mild bullying, oh, what is it you demons call it? The sound of birds? Chirping. That is it. If they like you. If they don’t, well, you’d be better off in the Lax zone in any case. Chad is… interesting as a ruler.” Lucifer commented. 

Derek breathed in, and closed his eyes. 

“Okay, take us back now, please. I’ll try this Hell place out. If it’s bad, I will give you hell.” He murmured, barely registering the odd turn of phrase.   
“Then it’s a good thing we already live there, isn’t it, Derek?” Dex remarked quietly, not sounding completely stable. All Derek heard after that was the sound of snapped fingers, and when he re-opened his eyes, he was back in the place they called Hell, facing the doors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very sorry this took me so long. I'm finding writing quite difficult at the moment, both from being inspired and actually finding time, so... I hope this wasn't awful though, and I do still have intentions to finish this! Please let me know if there's any mistakes/things that needs changing, and thank you for reading!


	3. Not All Demons Are Assholes (But This One Is)

Hell looked surprisingly… normal. It looked very similar to any city that he’d seen, skyscrapers reaching into the sky, only taller than any human built ones, so high he could not see the tops of them. And he was walking on water. 

At first he thought it was just a puddle, but no. He was actually walking on a channel of water, the depth indeterminable. Lucifer laughed out loud. 

“Oh, the floor? It gets everyone first time. Doesn’t it, Dex?” There was just a hint of something dangerous in their voice, as though they were trying to get to Dex. Derek couldn’t quite bring himself to look at Dex, instead glancing at Lucifer. 

“When you’re used to water not being very solid, walking on it is very strange. And I think you should paint your room white. It’s very unsettling not knowing on what you’re walking.” Derek stated, more confidently than he really felt. Lucifer blinked at him, then grinned. 

“I like you. You can stay here.” They said, leaving Derek puzzled. “Here, you can walk on it. Keeps other district residents out.” 

“Yeah, well, we’re not all Jesus. Not everyone is used to weird gravity shit.” He grumbled. He flinched away from the loud laugh Lucifer emitted. 

“Ah, Jesus. Him. Charming, really, and the humans really took to him. Saviour, martyr, all that. Very appealing. No, his talent was being able to walk the dimensions, not water. He was one of few who could willingly pass into Purgatory, and, of course, back again.” They shrugged, like this actually explained anything at all. Derek decided to pretend that it did, and maybe ask one of the other residents, milling about, unaffected seemingly by their alleged ruler in their midst. Derek wasn’t even sure they’d noticed the three of them. “In any case. Dexter, take this post-human to his abode. I have places to be, Chads to taunt.” Lucifer left no time for either of them to complain, simply disappearing with an unsettling smile, a hint of sharp teeth showing through. 

Dex was scowling again when he turned back, but looked far less pale than he had. Derek still wasn’t quite sure he’d made the right decision, but the curiosity itched at him. Why had the sight of _Derek’s_ death bothered him quite so much? It made no sense. He’d seemed so passive about it at the desk. 

“Come on then, moron. I have things to do.” The demon muttered unhappily, striding forwards, leaving Derek with little option but to follow. 

“What things? You’re a demon. Don’t they live lives of leisure?” He said, looking about himself. A few people had turned to look at him, but no one really took that much notice. For what he could tell, Hell was huge. There was still room to hide the torture chambers, he thought cynically as Dex snorted. 

“Oh yeah, total leisure. We don’t do anything.” He scoffed loudly. “I probably do more work in a day than you did in your entire _life_.” 

Well. Ouch. Wasn’t it a bit sadistic to keep reminding someone how dead they were? 

“You didn’t say what.” He said curtly. Dex shrugged.   
“Lots of things. These post-humans don’t sort themselves out, and someone’s got to man the desk and escort annoying stuck up brats like you who think they deserve better.” 

He couldn’t really work Dex out. He didn’t sound too annoyed, more irritated, but it was at odds with his words, and Derek was in a bit too much turmoil he was also trying to ignore to work it out. 

“Excuse me if the entirety of American culture seems set on making me believe Hell is bad.” He retorted, as they passed by one of the skyscrapers. He couldn’t help but glance at it, and the way it merged with the ground; it was more that the water seemed to decide to flow upwards, forming the walls – or at least the outer ones. 

He’d look later. Right now, he didn’t want to give Dex more ammo to call him stupid or naïve. It bugged him more than it should; he could swear, in his entire day of knowing Dex, the demon had gotten more under his skin than most of his ‘friends’ at home-

And he wasn’t thinking about that. Dex had had a good laugh while he’d been stuck in his own world, and was just starting to calm down when he returned. 

“Yes. America is quite set on that whole thing. No bad thing, I’m sure, but we really don’t have the same trouble from post-humans from Asia…” 

Derek frowned.   
“Stop it.” 

Dex looked at him sidelong, genuinely puzzled.   
“Stop what? I’m not doing anything.” 

“Calling them that!” He stated firmly, and stopped walking. The term gave him the creeps. That was probably it. Lucifer had used it too, and he’d not quite linked it, but post-human was just so- 

“Huh? ‘Post-humans from Asia’? What now, is there a term for the dead from Asia I’m supposed to be using?” Dex asked snidely, but he’d also paused. Derek curled his hands into fists, at the term and the mockery. 

“Post-humans! That’s awful, they’re still humans!”   
“No they’re not.” Dex said, effectively knocking the wind out of his sails.   
“What? Wait, no. They are!”   
“They really aren’t. Not here.” Dex repeated, and Derek stared him down for a long moment. Dex seemed almost as stubborn as him though, and did not yield; his curiosity eventually got the better of him. 

“Why aren’t they human anymore?” He asked, trying to sound casual. He suspected he missed entirely. Dex sighed, and started walking again. 

He seemed to take a long moment to think. When he did speak, it was far less flippant that Derek would have thought.   
“They are souls. Human is what you left behind on earth. Human is a body, a shape. You only look human now because that’s how you see yourself, how you expect yourself to look.” 

Derek took a second to digest this.   
“So I could change how I look?” He asked. Dex huffed a laugh, sardonic, and shoved his hands into his pockets, strolling past a second skyscraper, and a group of people, lying on the water in front of it, staring up at the sky. They didn’t seem in the world at all. 

“No. It’s not that easy.” He replied. Derek opened his mouth to ask for more information, but Dex beat him to it. “Ask Shitty, or Jack or whatever. They’ll be better at explaining.” 

“Who the hell are they.” Derek stated, not even considering his turn of phrase.   
“Who the heaven, if you would. And other demons. Ones with more patience than me.” Dex shot him a look, and Derek fell silent, inwardly agreeing with Dex’s implied statement. He was awful at explaining, or at least, Derek had more questions now than he had at the beginning of all this. 

So he wasn’t even human anymore? But he wasn’t post-human. He still _felt_ human. His fingers and senses and legs worked all the same. He still needed sleep, apparently, and if the way his stomach was rumbling was any indication, still needed food. He wondered where he’d get that. He almost wanted to ask Dex. He said nothing, staying quiet as they passed more buildings, spouting up from the ground. 

In any case, he thought to himself, ‘it’s not that easy’ wasn’t a no, it was a possibility. It meant he might be able to, if he put enough effort into it. It sounded like a good way to pass the time, the time before he- 

Where was he going after this? Dex had said something about moving on, but he couldn’t remember after that, what he’d said would happen… The only thing that had been made clear was that this was temporary. He wasn’t here long, but where would he go? 

The thought of being thrown in again to something totally unknown, having to try and stabilise himself again, was not exactly comforting. Especially not while he was still reeling with the aftermath of the first jump. 

Spiralling thoughts making him nervous, he was glad for the distraction of Dex cutting across his path to lead them into one building. It looked very similar to all the others, except for the number adorned on the side, twenty-eight emblazoned as apparently the only identification he would get. Great. Trust Hell to all look the same. He was so going to get lost. Not that he was going to tell Dex that. 

The inside of it looked almost exactly like a generic mid-range hotel lobby. There were a few worn red leather sofas, arranged around a low table, a vase of flowers in the middle of it. The floor looked to be a giant swathe of marble, and looked to be hewn from the same sheet; surely a trick. A glass chandelier dangled from the ceiling, and the look was completed with suitably forgettable artwork on the walls, and several pot plants dotted around. 

It was deserted aside from the woman behind the desk; she smiled at them merrily as they approached, sweeping a lock of brown hair behind her ear. 

“Hey Dex! Who’s the new arrival?” She asked brightly, grinning.   
“Caitlin. This is the delay, one Derek Nurse.” He muttered, and then paused. 

“Nice to meet you! Can I call you Derek?” She asked. He nodded, about to speak, and then considered the knowledge Dex shouldn’t have had. 

“Wait. Whoa wait a sec. How did you know that? You knew the whole time?!” He yelled. Dex scowled, crossing his arms, while Caitlin looked between the two of them in confusion. 

“Lucifer said it.” He said, somewhat unconvincingly.   
“No, I swear, you…” He tried to think back. Had Lucifer said it? How had Lucifer known his name? He repeated the final thought out loud. Caitlin laughed. 

“Lucifer knows most things if he wants to. Don’t try hiding stuff from him, it only makes him more curious.” She smiled pleasantly, as though she’d not casually told him that the ruler of Hell was indeed close to omniscient, and could easily be watching them at that very second. Derek frowned. 

“I’ll, uh, bear that in mind.” He replied.   
“In any case, it’s on your file. We just ask to confirm we have the right person. There was a great mix-up a while back, so it’s protocol now.” She continued. Derek turned to Dex slowly; the demon had shifted his body so he was practically facing away from the two of them, and Derek could swear his face was red. 

“So why didn’t you just _tell_ me that.”   
“I forgot.” Dex muttered. “Cait, show him to his room, I’m going.” 

“Bullshit you forgot!” He yelled. “What the hell is your problem, man?!” The whole situation irritated him. Dex lying to him bothered him more than it ought, but then, maybe it was just a safer thing to think about than what he’d just seen and why he was even here, being lied to in the first place. 

Dex didn’t answer, but he didn’t move either. Caitlin rolled her eyes.   
“I’ll just get the key. Don’t kill each other while I’m gone, alright.” She hopped off her seat, although this weirdly made her taller than she’d first seemed. With one final glare aimed at Dex, she whipped around the corner into some kind of office. 

“Seriously, what is your problem?” Derek asked again. “You could have said that instead of just being an asshole about it and making me suffer just so you could laugh at me.” 

“I wasn’t being an asshole.” Dex remarked defensively. “I forgot.” 

“Yeah, right, and pigs fly.” Derek muttered. He could tell he wasn’t going to get any answers, or any straight ones, anyway. The sooner Caitlin returned with his keys, the sooner he didn’t have to see Dex again. That would be nice. 

No sooner than he’d thought it, he realised there was a hushed humming sound. Both he and Dex turned to discover what it was, and found, on the floor, some kind of portal, with Lucifer’s head sticking out of it, grinning toothily. Derek was sorely tempted to kick it, if it hadn’t creeped him out quite so much. 

“Dexter! I forgot. This post-human is under your care. He’s going to be interesting, I can tell. No arguments, Dexter.” Lucifer finished in a warning tone, which quelled the obvious objections the demon had with that arrangement. Derek had a few himself. 

“I don’t need looking after!” He said, erring more on the side of whiny than he would have liked. Lucifer’s expression did not change. 

“Oh, but I can’t let souls like you wander around Hell with no supervision. Too curious for your own good. Dex needs a project.” They said, promptly disappearing. 

Derek blinked at the previously occupied space, now returned to the apparent usual of a paisley-esque rug. 

Dex said nothing. He didn’t move. Derek could have sworn he didn’t even breathe. 

“I don’t need a baby sitter!” He cried eventually. Dex shot him a venomous look, his eyes shining more red than orange at that moment.   
“I don’t need a baby to sit!” He retorted, throwing his hands up in the air. “Why does he always meddle like this! I’m not bored, I don’t need a project, I just need some peace without whiny post-humans who think they’re better than they are!” 

That stung. There really wasn’t any need for that. 

“Did I miss something?” He heard Caitlin ask sardonically behind them; when he looked, she had one eyebrow arched, indicating she’d either seen or guessed what had happened. “Don’t even bother, Dex. You know how he is.” 

There was a string of incoherent grumbling from the demon. Derek didn’t care to dissect it, suspecting there was a high proportion of insults and scathing comments within it. He just wanted to be alone at that moment. 

“Can I just go to my room?” He asked grouchily, wanting space from grumpy demons and inscrutable archangels. What he’d give to go somewhere he actually knew right now, like the roof of his house, watching the sun go down… 

Something he’d never do again. 

“Yup! Follow me. I’m sure Dex will be back in the morning.” He barely noticed the glare that accompanied her words, tiredness and shell-shock and fear starting to finally, truly set in. He focused on putting one foot in front of the other, all the way to his room. 

He didn’t look around. He barely had enough energy to thank Caitlin, and swiftly proceeded to stuff himself under the covers of the bed and cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh, sorry? I am writing this, and I really do want to finish it. I wouldn't have posted the first chapter if I hadn't. But, I'm trying to do a training year, and my final exam is in a month. In about December I had some kind of break-down because I was trying to do everything at once, and writing had to go behind eating and working and studying, unfortunately. So I don't anticipate this being written very fast, but I would like to finish it. Maybe sometime before next Halloween... 
> 
> And it's not beta-read or anything. I hope it's okay, and I will work on this when I can. It's not just been abandoned yet!

**Author's Note:**

> Again, unbetaed. I stupidly thought I could finish something short for this. But no, clearly not. I do plan on continuing this, but I am quite busy, so we will have to see. Hope you enjoyed, and thank you for reading!


End file.
